* Six Years Ago *

The mirror didn’t lie.

I turned sideways, smoothing the deep green dress over my hips. Curves where teenage angles used to be. Auburn hair tumbling past my shoulders instead of scraped back in a ponytail. Smoke and intention lining my green eyes.

The hem hit mid-thigh—just high enough to make a statement—and my nicest cowboy boots added two inches I didn’t need but wanted anyway.

I looked like a woman now. I felt like one too.

Twenty-two years old, freshly graduated from veterinary school three states away, and back home to intern under old Doc Perkins. My father had insisted I attend the harvest festival tonight. Play the perfect rancher’s daughter. Smile for the neighbors.

Ryan was working a shift and wouldn’t be there to shadow me.

But Kameron Banks and Colt McKenna would be.

I leaned closer to the mirror, applying another coat of mascara. The girl who’d left this town four years ago wouldn’t recognize me. That girl had been gangly and desperate, scribbling in a diary full of dreams that would destroy her.

I still remember that day as if it was yesterday.

Sophomore year. The school parking lot. My overstuffed bag had split open, and my notebook tumbled out onto the concrete. Kameron’s girlfriend—a sharp-tongued cheerleader Esther—snatched it before I could move.

She’d flipped through the pages with a cruel smile while I stood frozen.

“Oh my God.” Jessica’s voice had carried across the lot. “Just listen to this, guys! ‘Kameron’s eyes are like the summer sky. I dream about him kissing me.‘ Seems like our ugly ducky is in love with you, Kam!”

The laughter had been suffocating. Twenty, thirty kids, all of them howling while my handwriting was displayed like evidence at a trial. And Kameron—beautiful, careless Kameron—had stood there laughing with them.

Not stopping it. Not even looking uncomfortable.

I had loved Kameron Banks for two years before that moment.

It started when I was fourteen—the summer he came to work as a ranch hand. He sat at our dinner table, laughing with Ryan. Broke colts with a fearless grin like danger was the whole point.

The best rider in the county, everyone said. Born for rodeo. He had this effortless shine that made everyone want to orbit closer, hoping some of that light might fall on them.

I was no different. Just quieter about it.

For two years, I loved him in secret. Wrote about him in that diary because I couldn’t tell anyone. Then Esther read those words to thirty laughing faces, and two years of hidden devotion became a punchline.

Ryan found me crying in my truck an hour later.

He didn’t hug me. Didn’t ask if I was okay. Just crossed his arms and said, “Stay away from Kameron. Boys like him will only break your heart.”

Not I’m sorry. Not I’ll talk to him. He never did confront Kameron. Their friendship continued without a ripple.

My humiliation wasn’t worth a hard conversation.

And then there was Colt.

Colt had been different. Kind, at first. He’d helped me fix my truck when it died in the south pasture. Taught me to train horses with those patient hands guiding mine on the reins.

I’d started to believe he saw me—really saw me—as something more than Ryan’s little sister. Then one evening I’d come looking for him at the main house. The kitchen window was open, and their voices drifted out.

“She’s got it bad, man.” Colt’s voice, low and amused. “Follows me around like a puppy. It’s F**king pathetic.”

Ryan had laughed. “She’s sixteen, McKenna. Don’t flatter yourself.”

I’d stopped eating at the main house after that. Later applied to a college three states away and didn’t look back.

But tonight, I decided, I was done being the punchline.

The ugly ducky glowed up and ready to make bullies choke on their own words.

The harvest festival was already crowded when I arrived. String lights hung from the barn rafters. A country band played something slow and aching. The smell of hay and whiskey and possibility filled the air.

Heads turned as I walked in and I felt powerful for the first time in years.

“Not that much.” Colt’s gaze cut to me for a split second before locking back onto Kameron.

The air between them crackled until I set my glass down harder than necessary and both men turned to look at me.

“You know what’s funny?” I said. “You’re both standing here talking about me like I’m still that silly little girl who followed you around hoping you’d notice her. Like I don’t get to decide what I want.”

Colt’s expression shifted. Something like guilt flickered there. “Ivory, that’s not what I—”

“Isn’t it? Because from where I’m sitting, nothing’s changed. You’re still talking over me. Still deciding what’s best for Ryan’s little sister.”

I signaled the bartender for another whiskey.

“And I spent four years away from this town, becoming someone who doesn’t need your protection or your permission.”

Kameron leaned closer. “What do you need then, firecracker?”

The question hung in the air between us as the band shifted to something slower and couples drifted toward the dance floor. I downed my whiskey in one long swallow and looked at them both.

Kameron with his wicked grin and careless charm. Colt with his quiet intensity and careful control.

Two men who had made me feel small and desperate and invisible for years.

Two men who were looking at me now like I was the only woman in the room.

“Maybe I want to play,” I said.

The words tasted like revenge. Like power. Like a lie I was telling myself because the truth—that some part of me still ached for them, still wanted them to choose me—was too dangerous to admit.

For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Then Colt moved closer.

“You want to play?” His voice dropped low, rough. “Let’s play then.”

Kameron’s laugh was dark. “Well. This just got interesting…”